The Firstborn
by CallmeCordelia1
Summary: This story explores details surrounding the union of Catherine and Richard and the resulting pregnancy. It also deals with the consequent issues arising between Catherine and Henry
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign to my great displeasure

Fear and joy struggled to reign within her as Catherine laid breathing heavily through the pain and exhaustion, awaiting the arrival of her first child. Jacques de Nostredame was instructing her to focus on pushing, but her mind was racing over the gravity and terror of what her moment of weakness may cost her. The child in her belly was not her husband's…

They had been married nearly a decade ago and, as yet, their union had failed to produce an heir. Catherine in her desperation to conceive tried everything, calling in physicians and gleaning advice from any possible source. Still, nothing worked. Her husband's heart hardened against her. He was cold and cruel, humiliating her with his many affairs. Catherine's shame was compounded when her husband's mistress announced that she was with child… Diane's pregnancy sealed her image as the worthless barren dauphine. It was her fault that her marriage remained childless. That was when Richard came to her.

Richard was a life-long friend of Henry's. As such, he had been present at court throughout all of Catherine's married life. Stories regaled by her husband revealed that he was far more outgoing when he was in his element among hunting parties. She always knew him to be quiet and reserved in her presence.

Many nights were spent celebrating the conception of Henry's bastard child. Catherine was forced to watch as Henry parade his pregnant mistress through the scores of courtiers toasting them and casting bets on the sex of the unborn child. Catherine was drinking more than usual, what did it matter? No one even remembered that she existed… Or so she thought. Richard had been watching her all night. He saw the forced smile that she had plastered on her face falter when Henry and Diane approached her.

Henry spoke as they moved closer to her, "Ah, Catherine! I wondered where you were."

Catherine said nothing, but merely surveyed him with an unreadable expression.

A hush fell over the room, "Aren't you going to congratulate me on becoming a father?"

She stared at him for a moment before flashing her practiced smile and replied softly. "Congratulations."

As she turned to go he called to her, "Wait, Catherine! You forgot to congratulate Diane."

Catherine stood frozen with rage and embarrassment. She could feel her colour rising and the surge of her pulse at her temples. She turned slowly to face her husband.

Her eyes never left his as she spoke in a low voice, "Congratulations, Diane, on carrying a royal _bastard_." She turned on her heel and exited the room, with nobles shrinking from her as she passed.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still do not own Reign

Once out of the hall and away from the prying eyes of courtiers, she hurried, stumbling slightly from too much wine. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes as she heard heavy footfalls behind her. Something in her hoped that it was Henry, coming to apologize. Showing her that he cared, if only a little. When a large hand grasped her arm and spun her around, she looked up into Richard's face. Richard? What was he doing following her?

"What? What do you want?"

"Catherine… I mean, uh, dauphine…"

"You may call me Catherine, Richard. Now what do you want? I am tired and would like retire to my rooms."

"I know this has been a difficult evening for you…"

"Yes, I have had many difficult evenings in my time. I hope that that is not your point in preventing my withdrawal."

"No, I mean, I just… I don't want you to feel alone here. I know to you I am only a friend of your husband's, but I hope you know that you may consider me a friend of yours as well."

Catherine was taken aback by this show of kindness. He had rarely even spoken in her presence before.

"Thank you, Richard. I… I'm grateful to you." She lowered her eyes, humiliated that even a friend of her husband's takes pity on her.

He reached up with his free hand to touch her face.

"Richard!" She hissed, removing her arm from his grasp.

"I'm so sorry!… I didn't mean... I didn't know!... You must know?..."

"Leave it!" She spirited away to her chambers.

In the weeks that followed Henry continued to bask in the glow of Diane's pregnancy and Richard continued to present himself as an empathetic listener for Catherine. At first she scorned him and doubted his sincerity, but as Diane's belly grew and Catherine's fear intensified she began to turn to Richard for comfort. At first he just listened as she voiced her anxieties, but as her panic rose deepened so did their relationship.

The night after Diane began her preparations for the nursery, most of the castle was asleep, but Catherine lay awake. She was trying not to think of her isolation, her hollow marriage, her sullied reputation as the unwanted wife of the Dauphin of France. She heard a tap at her balcony door. Pulling back the heavy curtains revealed Richard peering at her through the glass. She rushed to cover her nightgown, throwing on her discarded dressing gown.

"What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?"

He smiled, shutting the door. "Just thought I'd come check on you… I saw the candlelight so I knew you were awake… I just climbed up to make sure you were okay."

"Candlelight is not an invitation to come sneaking into my chambers! I'm… You shouldn't be here!"

"No one saw, I assure you… If you like I can leave?"

Although his presence in her chambers at this hour would be impossible to explain and she felt alarmed at his sudden presence in her space, she was desperate for company.

"No, you may stay. Just don't feel that you are at liberty to ascend into my chambers whenever the mood strikes you."

That was the night of the biggest mistake of Catherine's life. After several hours of pouring out her heart she broke down, she allowed another man into her bed. That's why she was here now delivering a child that was the punishment for her sin.


	3. Chapter 3

When she first interpreted the early signs of pregnancy, she begged Richard to leave court ad return to his family's lands in the north. Having sent him away, Catherine turned her attention to the next problem. She had to lure Henry to her bed, and quickly! She saw her opportunity when Diane insisted on taking a trip to Paris to shop for more supplies for the nursery.

It was late and Henry had just finished meeting with his council regarding the grain shortages due to heavy rains. Catherine dressed strategically in her red gown with a more open neckline and accessorized with the necklace he had given her in the early days of their marriage, when things seemed so much simpler. As she entered the room, she felt his eyes on her. She bent to return a book to a lower shelf; she looked up and smiled at him. He studied his wife for a while before returning his attention to the documents spread before him. He felt her small hands touch his shoulders and begin to soothe the tension in them. She bent so that her face was next to his and whispered.

"It's late. Why don't you put that away for now?"

"Because it has to be addressed sooner rather than later."

"It's about impending famine." She observed reading over his shoulder, "Why don't you call in that favour from Duke of Bohemia? He is not in the financial position to repay the loan. That region has had a good harvest the last several years and I am sure we could negotiate for more than enough food to stave off a famine." She felt his shoulders relax.

"Hmmm… That could work!" He turned kiss her, "Why aren't you on my council, Catherine?"

She offered him a sly smile, "That would be quite an honour, but I can think of a greater one."

He grinned, "Aren't we ambitious? Perhaps we could retire and discuss this further?"

Catherine opened her eyes to find herself curled up against her husband's side. He smelled the same and for a moment she was transported back to her years as a newlywed. She remembered the times when they would wake up just like this and he would try to convince her to stay in bed with him. She always lingered for just a little while, always left him wanting more. She would try not to giggle as he kissed her neck while she sat at her vanity, preparing herself for the day. She remembered when he tried to help her choose which gown to wear and he unknowingly pulled out a chemise instead, to her great amusement. They had been blissfully happy then…

She allowed herself that moment of enjoyment before crashing back to reality. She had seduced her husband to return to her bed in order to hide the true parentage of her unborn child. She suddenly felt her chest constrict. She couldn't breathe, Henry's arm across her torso suddenly felt too heavy. Guilt and panic surged inside her…

That same guilt was still with her.

"Breathe, Your Grace!" Nostredame's voice brought her back to the present. Pain flooded in, "You need to keep focused. It is almost over."

Almost over? Her whole life was almost over! She was delivering a bastard. This child would cost her everything: her husband's love (if she ever had that), her position, even her head… What comfort was it that she could conceive if she would die for her adultery?

The pain surged, momentarily eclipsing fear. Then it was gone. She heard crying, like the bleating of a lamb. She looked around to see where Nostredame had gone with her child. He was bent over examining the child.

"What's wrong?!" She felt her panic rising again over a child she didn't even know she loved.

"You have birthed a girl, Your Grace… She appears to be fine medically, but… Her face…"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own Reign

As Nostredame placed Catherine's child into her arms, Catherine explored her little face hungrily. That birth mark was blatant evidence that the child was not Henry's. Many refer to such discolourations as the Devil's mark, but she knew that it wasn't Satan who had marked this child. It was Richard. He had a similar stain on his jawline and if Henry saw it he would know. Ever since she was married Catherine had dreamed of her first child. Henry would be there bursting with pride. She would shush and rock her perfect little one to sleep in her arms. She would finally have a family.

How true it was that dreams rarely manifest into reality. She thought back to the first person who had ever taught her that fantasizing was useless, that reality must be accepted and dealt with. Catherine was raised with her Aunt Clarice after both of her parents died. She was the only maternal figure Catherine could remember. It was with her that Catherine lived until she was taken as a hostage to live in a series of convents. As the atmosphere of Florence grew darker Aunt Clarice modelled for her niece the strength that Catherine had yet to attain. She was the strongest, hardest woman Catherine had ever known. Catherine had since taken her example to heart and hardness had served her well. She knew that this child would need that same strength, that same resilience.

"Clarissa"

Nostredame looked up, "Your Grace?"

"She is to be called Clarissa."

"A very nice choice… If I may, I have had experience working with such… deformations in the past… There is a woman who could act as a wet nurse. I could take the child with me and attempt to correct it."

"Her." Catherine corrected him, "And, yes, please you must remove it. She… I will pay you well for your assistance and your silence. I will send word to you, you are not to tell anyone about this evening or the identity of my child."  
>"Of course, I will act with the utmost discretion. If my efforts should prove unsuccessful…"<p>

"They cannot! You say you have experience, USE IT! You must leave, now. I will send my lady to you in a fortnight." She cradled little Clarissa close and kissed her, "May God bless you, my sweet girl."

Nostredame departed with little, swaddled Clarissa, leaving Catherine to her thoughts. She was weak and exhausted from fear and labor. Her muscles trembled and her heart raced. She wept as thoughts swarmed in her mind. Would Nostredame be able to remove the stain? What would she do if all of his attempts failed? That child had no one in the world except her mother. Richard could never claim her and she could never come back to court with that stain. She loved her child. She loved Clarissa more deeply than she thought possible, but she couldn't help the shame that washed over her when she thought of her betrayal. Her mistake had cost her so much, and Richard… He loved her, she knew that. He demonstrated his love through self-sacrifice, something Henry could never give her. And Henry, he had loved her when they were young, when the future stretched out before them full of possibility and promise. Now she had fooled him into thinking it was his child she carried. He was so excited, not just proud of his own virility, but truly buoyant with glee over the child in her belly. He told her that this was their second chance at happiness. Little did he know… Why should she feel guilt?! He had a procession of mistresses that he had proudly displayed to her disgrace. He had certainly sown one bastard, how many others were there dispersed across France? The tears came harder when she thought of what her actions may cost Clarissa. Her life would be ruined if Nostredame's efforts were futile or if anyone found out her true paternity.

Just then she heard someone clamoring down the hallway. A jovial Henry burst inside, but his face immediately fell. The sight of his wife's tears and the absence of their child caused his heart to seize in his chest.

"Catherine, what happened? Are you alright? Where is the physician? And the child?"

"She was… unwell." Catherine managed, "He has taken her to try to heal her…"

"I should have been informed at once when you went into labor! I'm going to strangle that buffoon for failing to keep me apprised. Are you feeling alright? Is there anything you need?" He spoke, keeping his distance.

"No, I will be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I can only fantasize about owning Reign

AN: Hey all! Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favourites! It inspires confidence!

In the weeks that followed Catherine worked to distract herself from the agony of worrying over her child. She threw herself with exceptional vigor, even for her, into directing the household staff and dealing with affairs of the nation. This tactic did not escape Henry's notice and, although he was still unsure how to comfort and assure her, he made an attempt.

"Catherine, I would like to speak with you privately."

"Is it regarding the approaching visit of His Majesty James V? Your father and I have been discussing the entertainment for the banquet celebrating his arrival. I would like your opinion on the selection of music. What about a hunt? You could host-"

"Catherine!" he interjected, "I want to discuss our daughter."

"I have no news on her condition, but I did hear back from the Duke of-"

"I know you're concerned for her. I could arrange for a visit, Nostredame lives in a village not far from here."

"No!" She took a cleansing breath, "No, Henry, we can do nothing for her, except pray. She is receiving the best care money can buy. If… _When _Clarissa is well enough to return-"

"When she gets well you and I will go reclaim her together. I want to be a good father to Clarissa and a good husband to you."

Catherine's ladies had readied her for bed and she dismissed them. Despite the late hour, sleep would not come. She lay staring at the ceiling, pondering the fate of her little girl, when her lady slipped through the door.

"Elaine! What news of Clarissa? What did Nostredame say?"

"Milady, she… your daughter is… gone…"

"_Gone._" She repeated the word, not fully grasping its meaning.

"I am so sorry, milady. He said she died peacefully. Nostredame sends his condolences."

"You may go."

She did not sleep that night, nor many nights that followed. Catherine fought to calm the conflicting emotions arising as a result of the loss of her firstborn. She was devastated, that sweet little life that she carried for months, that she held against her chest, _that_ life was gone. It was hardly the first blow that life had dealt her, but she felt it deeply, piercingly. On the other hand, she felt a small sense of relief. The child who bore the mark of her sin was gone to rest in peace. Catherine was quickly engulfed in guilt over her sense of relief. What kind of mother was she? What kind of mother could feel anything but anguish over the loss of a child? How could she live with this? But she would. She was the consummate survivor.

To MariaPurt: Thank you for your review. I took some liberties in my interpretation of Catherine's character. I feel that despite her composed exterior, she is constantly battling with guilt and fear. Although she makes the necessary tough decisions without hesitation, it doesn't sit well with her. She believes that Clarissa was God's punishment for the sin of her adultery. Seducing Henry settled the matter of her pregnancy, but the appearance of the child (even before she knew of the birthmark) may raise questions that she cannot answer. Thanks again for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign. This chapter is set several months after the events occurring at the end chapter 5.

Time passed and Catherine eventually began to regain her sense of normalcy. She sent a single correspondence to Richard relating the news of their child and telling him not to write back for fear of interception. He respected her wishes and she heard nothing further from him.

Henry, while still enthralled with his new son, Sebastian, was less vindictive in his relations with his wife. Initially he was distant, unsure how to share in her grief over a child he never knew, but as she slowly returned to the version of herself that he recognized their relationship reshaped. Since his love for his existing son did nothing to alleviate his need for a legitimate heir, he began to regularly share Catherine's bed. Although the understood purpose for these visits was to produce heirs, their union did not lack passion.

As Catherine listened with feigned interest to an enthusiastic monologue by the Grand Chamberlain, Henry closed in behind her.

"Oh good! I have been searching for you. I am afraid I must steal you away to discuss an urgent matter that requires your attention." He hurried Catherine out of the now nearly vacant throne room.

"You look lovely, Catherine." He whispered in her ear as he drew her towards her chambers. "If I hadn't come to your rescue you would have been entertained with a detailed list of each article of clothing in my father's possession."

"When you arrived I had already been acquainted with each shade of stocking in his wardrobe." She responded, with a coy laugh. "What is this urgent matter I must attend to?"

"I'm afraid that it's vital that you familiarize me with the layout of your chambers. It may take all night."

"Anything for the realm, " smiled Catherine.

In May Catherine began to suspect that recent physical changes indicated an impending miracle. The following month she was assured and rushed to Henry with the news that she carried a Valois child in her belly. Her husband was once again overjoyed! He was still concerned about the poor health of the first child and so he took every precaution and lavished his care upon his wife. Catherine relished in being the source of Henry's exuberance and the object of his undivided attention while it lasted.

In January, while he was on a hunt, news of Catherine's labor reached Henry with the expected haste. He rushed to her side. Her labor was long and grueling, but at last Henry and Catherine had a child. She had tears in her eyes as she realized the fulfillment of her dream. She cuddled and rocked her precious little boy, her husband leaned over her shoulder beaming at his son, and she finally had the sense of intimate belonging.

Diane, knowing how mercurial the dauphin's heart could be, watched over him possessively. Henry's newly discovered affection for his wife did not go unnoticed, nor would it be tolerated. Diane knew that producing heirs was necessary, but his amorous glances and the consistency with which he attended to his wife could be early signs of the turning tide. She would not allow herself and her son to be eclipsed by the woman Henry was obliged to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign

Once Catherine was rested and recovered, King Francis and Henry hosted an extravagant celebration rejoicing in the birth of the next Valois heir. Francis, as he was christened in honour of his grandfather, was the center of the festivities until he promptly fell asleep in his mother's arms not twenty minutes into the celebration. Catherine would not have him taken away by the wet nurse, but found a comfortable place to sit and greet the nobility and clergy who had come to toast her son while he slept in her lap. Her father-in-law and husband greeted their guests formally and then Henry came to sit with his wife and son, but his excitement made it impossible for him to keep his seat. He made the rounds speaking animatedly with anyone who asked about the child. Just then Diane entered with little Sebastian at her heels.

"Oh, Henry! You will be so proud of your son! He rode on his own in the round pen today with the pony you gifted him!" She spoke loudly over the music.

At that Bash toddled hurriedly toward his father, who scooped him up and tossed him into the air with a loud 'whoop'.

"That's my boy, Bash! Did you ride fast on your pony? "

"Yes, father! He is veeeerrry fast! And everyone says I'm brave like you!"

Henry held Sebastian in his left arm and pulled Diane in with his right. When he caught sight of Catherine's face and set Bash down, stroking his hair, and released his mistress from his grasp. Diane kissed Henry and looped her arm through his, smiling at Catherine.

"You've missed your father, haven't you, darling?"

Sebastian nodded and flashed Henry a sweet grin. Diane leaned in close.

"He isn't the only one who has been missing you."

While Catherine watched Henry embrace his mistress and bastard son before the entire court, she kept thinking to herself that she was such a fool. His coming to her bed had simply been accomplishing what must be done for France, producing a legitimate heir. She had believed in the fairy story she created in her mind, convincing herself that her husband loved her. She had been senseless enough to believe that he loved her, that they would fulfill her ideation of the happy family. She held her infant son a little closer. He would be her world. She would pour herself into being a mother to him and he would love her in return.

Catherine rose and bid goodnight to King Francis, who kissed her forehead and turned to the court to announce that the dauphine and her son would be retiring, but the wine would continue to flow. He raised his glass to toast the sleeping babe and the court responded in salutation to young Francis. As she neared the exit Henry caught up with her.

"Catherine, wait! Why don't you get the wet nurse to take him to the nursery? This whole celebration is for us."

"Is it? I do not wish to stay." She replied, shooting a glance in Diane's direction.

"Must you always pout when I so much as speak to another woman?!"

Catherine was aware that they were becoming a spectacle for the surrounding nobles. Smiling she laid her hand on his chest and spoke lowly, "I am leaving. Please do not make a scene."

Catherine settled Francis in the nursery and informed the wet nurse as to what time she would come for him in the morning. As she entered her rooms she found that her ladies were not present. Turning she encountered Henry, vexed and awaiting her arrival. Henry looked up as the door closed.

"Where have you been? I have been waiting to speak with you."

"I was putting our son to bed. What would you care to speak with me about?"

"You know very well what! You made a scene all because I gave Diane a bit of attention! First she starts and now you! Why must I always be harassed by jealous women?!"

"I cannot speak to the cause of your whore's jealousy, but as for your wife's I should think it would be evident. I am made to watch as you swoon over Diane and that bastard before the whole court at a celebration in honour of my son!"

"_YOUR _son?" Henry was bellowing now. "I see, so he is _your_ son?!"

"_Our_ son." Catherine corrected herself. "But I will not allow our son to be eclipsed in the glory of a bastard!"

"I am the future king of France and you will allow whatever I choose!"

"And I am the future queen of France! As such I should be afforded some semblance of respect!"

"That title comes from your association to me! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A RUINED ITALIAN FOUNDLING WHO HAD THE GREAT FORTUNE OF BEING A BARGAINING CHIP OF A POWER-HUNGRY POPE!"

Catherine recoiled inwardly at his words, but her years spent perfecting her mask were not in vain. The only sign that she even heard Henry speak was the whitening of her knuckles as she gripped the chaise. She saw him open his mouth to address her again, but she lifted her hand to stay his speech.

"I am tired and your whore is lonely. Assuage us both." She gestured towards the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign. Well guys, this is it. This is the final installment of The Firstborn. Thank you for all of the follows, favourites, and reviews. I hope you all enjoy!

Before the day broke Catherine emerged, dressed and ready to take on the day. Most of the castle's inhabitants were still slumbering, but as she approached the nursery Catherine heard that her little boy was not one of them.

"Good morning, sweet boy! You are up early today." Catherine smiled as she cradled Francis.

"He slept most of the night, your grace."

"I'm glad one of us did," she thought aloud. Then glancing at nurse still clothed in her nightdress, she said, "You may go and prepare yourself for the day. Be back within the hour."

Motherhood agreed with her and Catherine quite enjoyed the little tasks involved in caring for her son. She rocked and cuddled him and was rewarded when his tiny fist latched on to her finger. She decided to choose his attire for the morning. She set him in his crib and went about searching through his armoire. It was laden with rich fabrics that seemed too stiff and itchy for an infant. Sorting through the masses of clothing, she discovered a small wooden case near the back of the wardrobe. This familiar box stirred her memory. Sitting on the floor she opened it, revealing a carefully folded silk garment. With shaking hands she unfolded the tiny frock that her daughter never wore. It had been a gift from her husband for her firstborn. The grief and shame of the past engulfed her. Clutching the garment to her chest she let out a sob. More followed.

Unbeknownst to Catherine, Henry appeared in the doorway. Finding her rooms empty he expected that she would be with their son. He had not expected this. Moving quietly into the nursery, he nimbly sat on the floor next to her.

At the sight of her husband, Catherine ceased crying and dried her eyes.

Henry broke the silence, "I had wondered where that ended up."

"What are you doing here, Henry?" Her voice held no malice.

"I think that we should discuss last night's… conversation."

"What is there to say?" She looked at him.

"Well, I… It's just that…"

She knew that look; it was his version of an apology. She knew that he was waiting for her to interrupt and let him off the hook. Catherine merely lifted her eyebrows curiously.

He was forced to continue, "In my anger, I said some things that I didn't mean."

"There have been many times that I doubted your sincerity," She looked away, "Last night was not one of them."

"Catherine, do not doubt my sincerity now."

"I believe that you are sorry that your rage revealed what you truly feel."

He remained silent. At that moment the wet nurse reappeared to the astonishing sight of the royals nestled together on the flagstone. At the prompting of the dauphin she gathered little Francis in her arms and departed without a word.

Alone again, Henry took the little gown from his wife's hands. "You know, I think that part of the problem is that we never dealt with the passing of Clarissa."

She sighed, "Henry, please. I don't want to discuss it."

"I know, but seeing how much that loss still resonates… I have an idea."

She shook her head. All she wanted was to forget. Why had she opened that box, Pandora's Box?

Henry rose to his feet, "I will find you this evening. Please understand that I _do _love you."

Catherine was grateful for the thought-consuming nature of the day's tasks, but when Henry entered the great hall with that wooden case in his hands she could no longer neglect the nervousness that lurked in the recesses of her mind. He silently took her hand and led her out of the room. They journeyed through the stately halls, out the front door, down the stone steps, and into the gardens. Most of the gardens were ornate and lush, but Henry had found a modest plot of land down by the lake where he had commissioned a bench placed. As they drew near, Catherine saw a small hole had been dug.

Henry noticed that her eyes were drawn to the small grave. "Since we never got to have a proper burial I think we should memorialize her as best we can."

They stood hand-in-hand while the sun dipped below the horizon. The stillness of the moment was peaceful and, as the old day died, Catherine felt lighter somehow. Henry released her hand and stepped forward placing the box into the earth.

"Wait!" She spoke louder than she had intended, "Could we just entomb the gown? I think… I would like to have a keepsake."

In the years to come, Catherine would collect a lock of hair from each of her children. A golden ringlet was acquired from Francis and Margot, soft brown tresses from Elisabeth, Claude, Charles, and Hercule, and platinum strands from Louis, Henry, Victoria, and Joanna. Each of these treasures was enshrined in the little wooden case that served as a relic of the child who was both curse and blessing in her life.

She would never forget her firstborn.


End file.
